To Be Here, part 2

part 2. baldwin

i think that i could easily write about this Baldwin compilation piece each week for the remainder of our class. here's the short(er) version.

i. in thinking about who you are and when and what it means to be home/trapped:

Prof/Lex's discussion points and Baldwin's insights in this article kept reminding me of the experiences of some the farmworkers that i used to work with in north carolina. when i was working at student action with farmworkers i helped coordinate summer intern documentary projects. these were not your average black & white pictures documenting poor, helpless, down-trodden farmworkers in miserable conditions. these projects focused on the cultural traditions of individual farmworkers such as cooking, crafts, song, dance. the projects over the years have turned out very differently--some workers talk about a tradition they did before coming to the US, others talk about traditions they started while in the US as a lifeline to home, still others have brought a tradition from Mexico and continue to participate in it while in the US. (check out some samples here: http://cds.aas.duke.edu/saf/fieldwork/en/img3.htm)

One of the stories that has always stayed with me is that of CS, who is a popular musician in Mexico and is also a farmworker at a camp in North Carolina. I was with the two interns who interviewed CS about his life. He was speaking very excitedly about his music career and I remember his reaction when they asked a question about "life as a farmworker in the US." he seemed almost startled to be identified as such. he explained that he was never a laborer before and he really wasn't cut out to be one; that this was his first summer here and he thought it was really hard; that is was so shocking to be treated so differently--from being a pop star to being a farmworker (he knew what to expect, but didn't know it would feel like this). I remember having a very intense insight about my own racism at that moment. Despite knowing and working with farmworkers and organizing for farmworkers rights for years, CS's description made me realize how often I think about farmworkers as one-dimensional, as fundamentally hard workers, as somehow more able to deal with or more "cut out" to deal with oppressive working and living conditions.

I remember one of the student documentary intern's reaction to this comment. He was a US-born Latino who had worked in the fields with his family his whole life and was now in college for graphic design. He described how different he was perceived/treated when he was in his work clothes versus when he was in his school clothes.

When I was reading Baldwin's words about Harlem, I was thinking about this conversation with CS. I was thinking about how he is a multi-faceted person like we all are. I was thinking about how he is perceived so differently depending on which side of the border he is on. I was thinking about how his perception of himself changes so drastically depending where he stays. I was thinking about how he, like so many others, moves fluidly in and out of his identities and yet is simultaneously trapped (quite literally) on one side of the border or the other. trapped by systematic economic exploitation on the macro level. trapped by immigration policy. trapped by back door deals and handshake photo ops. trapped in the US for 8 months. trapped in Mexico for the other four. straddling borders without being allowed to shift your weight, to live fully or freely on either side.

trapped in housing on a labor camp. trapped in housing projects. trapped in the "proof of how thoroughly the white world despised them" (pg. 175). trapped in the knowledge that "nothing can be done as long as they are treated like colored people"(pg. 175). trapped in the revelation of "the real attitude of the white world" (pg 174).

or liberated by it?

liberated by knowing the truth. liberated by knowing, without doubt, what you are up against. trapped and liberated. home and trapped.

as Baldwin writes, "I know Negroes who prefer the South and white Southerners, because 'At least there, you haven't got to play any guessing games!' The guessing games referred to have driven more than one Negro into the narcotics ward, the madhouse, or the river." (pg. 178)

ii. in thinking about what is worse:
here again, i kept making the connections to some experiences I had organizing for farmworker rights. Baldwin gives several examples of folks who try to refute or down play or justify the oppression of Blacks, because bad things happen to white people too:

"People are continually pointing out to me the wretchedness of white people in order to console me for the wretchedness of blacks. But an itemized account of the American failure does not console me and it should not console anyone else" (pg. 172-173).

"The world has never lacked for horrifying examples; but I do not believe that these examples are meant to be used as justification for our own crimes" (pg 178).

i used to speak to a lot of church groups and other congregations of people about why white people should care about farmworker justice. undoubtedly the most frequent response that i got was "well, my family were immigrants too!" sometimes it was just that, which often left me asking, "and??" many times it was followed with, "and no one helped them!" and sometimes continued with, "they made it on their own so i don't see why i should have to help these people!" after the first time this happened, I came up with some responses that generally addressed these concerns (whether they changed minds & hearts, who knows):

"thank you for sharing your story."
"thank you for sharing your story. it sounds like you must have a very deep appreciation for the discrimination, persecution, and hardships that new immigrants often face."
"wouldn't it have been great is there were folks who would have helped your grandparents to learn to speak English?"
"wouldn't it have been great if there were resources available in their native language when they first got here? do you think that would have helped mediate any of their hardships?"
"if your family was immigrating to the US now, would you try to help them?"

reading Baldwin's eloquence on responding to these justifications floods me with the feelings of affirmation that Lorde's insights offered me in part 1. when i encountered these passages i was left thinking, "no way! people did that to him too?" and "i knew it! i knew that kind of response was fucked up but i couldn't articulate why very well." and then the elation of validation subsided to a twinge of sadness thinking, "how long are we going to keep doing that?"

still, i am left with inspiration and two new quotes for my toolbox:

"But an itemized account of the American failure does not console me and it should not console anyone else" (pg 173).

"This perpetual justification empties the heart of all human feeling. The emptier our hearts become, the greater will be our crimes" (pg. 178).

iii. in thinking about assimilation:
Baldwin writes, "Nor was it long, naturally before prominent Negroes rushed forward to assure the republic that the UN rioters do not represent the real feeling of the Negro community" (pg 180).

this quote jumped off the page at me. It reminds me of how nasty the effects of assimilation can be. it reminds me how people in the queer community are really quick to distance themselves from sickness. to say, "no. we're not the sick ones" as a way of saying "look how normal we are" and "hey we're just like you and that means we should be treated fairly and have rights too." this is so unproductive. it is one of the things i spoke about at the last stay ALERT workshop about queerness and ableism. what does it do to sick people if we accept that sick=bad and continue to distance ourselves from sickness? what does it do to those queers of us who are sick? what does it do to non-queer sick people? what does it do to those queers of us who are freaky and not assimilated and like it that way? how can we reframe the discussion here? after all, "what's so bad about being sick?" (shout out to queeringdiabetes.org for help with this).

this quote also belongs in conversation with Lorde's piece and her ideas around horizontal splintering. i just want to scream, "stop fighting each other. recognize what this does for the ones in control. recognize what it does (not do) for you."

let's stop hating ourselves and trying to prove how much like our oppressors we are. let's make it easy on ourselves. let's start showing each other how easy we could make it to love ourselves.

iv. on living in the north, but loving in the south:
i moved to nyc from durham about 14 months ago. when i first arrived on the scene i was welcomed with "so, you decided to move into a blue state, huh?" and "i bet its a lot different for you up here, huh?" it was a lot different but not in the ways they were implying. i spent a lot of my time explaining to people how different organizing in the south is and why they should get off their high horses about being new yorkers. and then i came across this:

"Northerners indulge in an extremely dangerous luxury. They seem to feel that because they fought on the right side during the Civil War, and won, they have earned the right merely to deplore what is going on in the South, without taking any responsibility for it; and that they can ignore what is happening in Northern cities because what is happening in Little Rock or Birmingham is worse" (pg. 178).

and i couldn't believe what i was reading. and i took a deep breath.

v. on showing up or a deep, personal revelation:
"Those white people who are in favor of integration prove to be in favor of it later, in some other city, some other town, some other building, some other school. Northerners proffer their indignation about the South as a kind of badge, as proof of good intentions; never suspecting that they thus increase, in the heart of the Negro they are speaking to, a kind of helpless pain and rage--and pity. Negroes know how little most white people are prepared to implement their words with deeds, how little, when the chips are down, they are prepared to risk."
Baldwin, page 183

"and I have to thank you for forgetting to stick your neck out for me after I craned my neck so often in your arms." Kara Walker, Letter from a Black Girl, art installation at the Whitney Museum of American Art

"Now that you’ve forgotten how you like your coffee and why you raised you pious fist to the sky, and the reason for your stunning African Art collection, and the war we fought together, and the promises you made me and the laws we rewrote, I am left here alone to recreate my WHOLE HISTORY without benefit of you, my compliment, my enemy, my oppressor, my Love." Kara Walker, Letter from a Black Girl, art installation at the Whitney Museum of American Art

To Be Here, part 1

part 1. lorde
What does Lorde teach us about how we can lovingly and critically inhabit a struggle that we are IN?

i read Audre Lorde's "Scratching the Surface" in transit to a workshop that I was about to facilitate about multi-issue organizing. At the end of the workshop, I had used at least three quotes directly from the piece to help me articulate my point.

Two themes resonated with me most strongly in this piece: 1) the idea of naming a different enemy and what that means for multi-issue organizing and 2) the idea of (and complications in) critically inhabiting a struggle you are in.

sometimes i feel like i talk a lot about multi-issue organizing and what it means and why its necessary for liberation and i get a lot of blank stares. many times i'm not sure exactly what i am talking about myself. i had the opportunity this year to start a workshop series that uses the life experiences and identities of members of the community i work in Queens to explore the ways that oppressions intersect in really concrete terms as a way to de-mystify, de-academicize, and breakdown this big bulky ambiguous term and get on to doing it, instead of just philosophizing about it. its called stay ALERT (activism, leadership, and education for a radical takeover) and im generally really proud of it (have i mentioned it before? sorry.) the series has met 10 times so far and has had great workshops and not so good workshops. we usually have a small number of really engaged participants who come as a favor to me but don't really know what the fuck i'm talking about before the sessions begin. by the end, we've usually all moved somewhere together and that is really fabulous. although this little workshop series is the most meaningful part of my job, i often dread planning the workshops. i think i figured out why. i have to constantly remind myself what i am talking about. forcing myself to do that in real terms can be really hard.

so when i happened to read this piece by Lorde on my way to the next workshop, i was in a particularly ripe place to appreciate and be in awe of the way the words worked together on the page. i was also ready for affirmation and encouragement. with these quotes (and applying them broadly) i had a deep sense of "ah-ha! i knew i was trying to say something legitimate.":

"Black women and Black men who recognize that the development of their particular strengths and interests does not diminish the other do not need to diffuse their energies fighting for control over each other." (pg. 46)

"The tactic of encouraging horizontal hostility to becloud more pressing issues of oppression is by new means new, nor limited to relations between women." (pg. 48)

"It is the structure at the top which desires changelessness and which profits from these apparently endless kitchen wars." (pg. 48)

i have added these to my "this is what i mean" toolbox that also includes the following quotes:
"If you let them red-bait, they'll race-bait; if you let them race-bait, they'll queen-bait. That's why we have to stick together." Allan Berube

"Because we no longer want others to impose their forms of being and thinking on us. We want to be free. And the only way to be free is to be so together. Because lack of freedom makes us the same." Subcomandante Insurgente Marcos, 1997

"Don't you get it? They're trying to make us fight each other to keep us from uniting to win real change." Unknown, 2007

This article also helped me understand what I think Prof/Lex means by "to critically inhabit a struggle that we are IN." The way I interpret it is to be an active part of a movement and still be visibly/audibly critical of it without letting that criticism prevent you from engaging in the struggle. I wonder if that could extend to something like holding people accountable but loving/trusting/believing in them enough to want to call them out and hold them accountable and still work with them and work towards deeper understandings of oppression, instead of just writing people off or disengaging because the movement isn't perfect or because someone's analysis is deeply flawed. am i getting off-track here?

Lorde's constant attention to "keeping our attentions focused upon our real needs" and the importance she places on rising above distracting horizontal splintering helped me understand what it means to critically inhabit one's own struggle. yet, in one moment she says, "and within the homes of our Black communities today, it is not the Black lesbian who is battering and raping our underage girl-children out of displaced and sickening frustration." in this quote i think she does her piece a disservice. i suspect that she is at least partially responding to lesbophobic assertions that lesbians are perverse or are child molesters (help me out here). however, saying "i'm not the problem; you are." seems to go against what she is encouraging throughout her article. additionally, since domestic violence and abuse is a problem within lesbian families and communities (one that we rarely talk about) i wonder what this statement does to lesbian survivors of lesbian rape/abuse/violence. i wonder what it does to how we address LGBT domestic violence in LGBT spaces. i wonder how it works against Lorde's own critical inhabitation of the movement.